


Your Skin is Sugar

by blissey



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Background Relationships, F/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Teacher-Student Relationship, dubcon for drunk sex, keep dreaming kids, probably won't write more but i might, they both consent verbally but they r drunk so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6791914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissey/pseuds/blissey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren is going to hell, and he's dragging Rey down with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Kylo Ren sat with his head in his hands and a cigarette dangling from his lips, a lukewarm beer in front of him. The bar’s stereo had gone from moody blues music to mariachi, and back to angsty folk rock. Hozier and Carla Morrison serenaded the greasy dive bar, the neon of the ‘cerveza’ sign bathing the jaded patrons in a wash of purple whimsy.

The bar itself was mostly empty, with a few wannabe Pachucos taking long hits from blunts and hiding them sloppily under the bar when the lethargic barkeep glanced their way. Earlier in the night, students from SAU had flooded the dive bar, taking advantage of the barkeep’s sluggishness and barely flashing fake IDs before ordering platters of cocktails.

Having kept his head down, Kylo barely noticed when the crowd thinned to leave a few sleep deprived students in their wake (along with the more adult population of the bar).

The girl a seat away from Kylo had been nursing her third margarita for nearly an hour, and the ice and salt had long assimilated into the drink. Nonetheless, she continued to stir and occasionally sip the margarita, a plate of lime slices in front of her. She was stone cold drunk.

She managed to squeeze the juice of two of the limes into the concoction when Kylo Ren finally decided to take pity on her. “Did your ride bail on you?” He asked, snubbing his cigarette and rolling the tip.

The girl turned, her eyes wide and pupils dilated with wonder. “Either that or he’s having the time of his life in the restrooms.”

Kylo chuckled. “Have you checked to see if his car is still here?”

The girl stumbled to her feet. “I should probably go do that.”

Kylo stood and followed her, his hand ghosting over the small of her back in case she fell. She left her margarita on the bar. The girl stumbled outside, the bright neon of the dive bar casting shadows onto her face. “Nope,” she said, “I have been marooned.”

She shoved her way back into the bar, nearly elbowing Kylo’s crotch. He tried not to stare at her ass as she paraded back to the bar, grabbing his ashtray and her margarita.

Her dress was a creamy beige that blended in with her skin, and the dual panels that covered the front criss crossed across the back - the back. The back. Kylo had to swallowed and run his hand through his hair because of that damn back. It plummeted down to the bottom of her spine, and the chiffon that hung from it showed just enough of the bodycon pencil skirt the girl wore.

“I’m Rey,” she sat down, nearly knocking her drink over.

“Kylo Ren,” he offered, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Well,” Rey smiled, her chin nearly touching her shoulder, “it is nice to meet you, Kyle Aaron.”

“Close enough,” Kylo sighed.

“What brings you to San Amaro?” She asked, her hand crawling over to rest on his forearm.

“Work,” his voice broke. Nice going, asshole.

“Me too,” she hiccuped.

“I’m stupid nervous,” he confessed. “I’ve my first day tomorrow.”

“Well,” Rey drawled, moving her hand to draw lazy pictures on Kylo’s arm. “I’m absolutely sure that you will do fantastic. What do you do?”

“I’m a writer,” he lied.

“Glamorous,” she laughed, batting her eyes. Kylo nearly dropped his beer. There was no way someone as gorgeous as her was seriously actually flirting with him.

“I do my best,” he smiled, trying to keep his cool, “what do you do?”

“I’m a mechanic,” Rey said quickly, “it pays the rent.”

“Gritty,” Kylo said.

A Hozier song came on, and Rey smiled, angling her face so that the greasy bar lights caught in her eyelashes and made her eyes pink. The dark, sultry makeup she had expertly applied did wonders to increase her sex appeal, and Kylo was very close to asking her to get in his car and go home with him.

“What do you write?” Rey asked, dragging the pads of her fingers over the back of his hand.

Kylo swallowed, “American Gothic. Specifically Southern and Southwestern Gothic.”

Rey smiled, her mouth open just a little bit, “like, true-crime or fiction?”

“Mainly fiction,” Kylo said.

“I do love fiction,” Rey hummed, “but there’s something about embellished journalism that I can never stay away from.”

Kylo couldn’t find the words he needed to form an articulate response. He took a long sip of his beer, the earthly sting of it washing against his suddenly inadequate throat. Come on, Kylo, fill the silence! This awkward pause is exactly what Ben would have done, and you’re not Ben.

“What brings you to San Amaro?” Kylo asked, his breath catching as her fingernails grazed his arm.

“I asked that already,” she said, smiling like a goddess.

“Your place or mine,” he said.

“How close is yours?” She asked.

Kylo’s voice broke again, “a three minute drive, if you stop at intersections.”

“Who needs the law, anyway,” Rey laughed, standing and stalking off. Kylo blinked, taken aback. Was she going to rob him? Had she? He patted his pockets making sure his wallet and keys were still there.

Rey slinked back with a black clutch in her hand, and held out the empty one to him. “Well,” she drawled, slurring slightly, “shall we?”

The drive to his apartment was intense, with shitty 90s rock playing softly on his car’s stereo and Rey staring at him like she had never seen another human being before. “You’re beautiful,” she said, her hand falling onto his thigh.

Kylo shifted, breathing heavily. Holy shit. Rest in peace, dorky TA Ben Solo, Kylo Ren was taking home the most beautiful girl in all of New Mexico. If that wasn’t a cemented milestone in the transformation from Ben to Kylo, hell knows what is.

“Thank you,” he said, “I have weird ears.”

“I don’t care,” Rey told him.

If she wasn’t drunk out of her mind and he wasn’t tipsy (almost to drunk), Kylo would ask her out on a date.

He half carried, half guided Rey to his apartment door, kicking aside the stray prickly pears that had wandered onto the walkway. her hands were under his shirt, and her mouth was on his neck. Kylo was in heaven.

Rey ripped his shirt off as soon as the door closed, devouring his mouth. She tasted like limes and tequila, and Kylo was nearly in love. Their teeth clinked, and she bit playfully at his lower lip. He broke their kiss to fumble with Rey’s dress, “how do I take this off without tearing it?”

“I don’t care if you rip it,” Rey said.

“I do,” breathed Kylo.

She undid a clasp on the back of the dress, and the whole ensemble fell off her in a beautiful waterfall of pinky-beige silk and chiffon. Her hair framed her face, and the cloud of fabric falling to her feet made her look like an angel standing on a cloud of pure ecstasy. Kylo grabbed her by the waist, his fingers digging in so harshly that he was sure Rey would have bruises in the morning. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and she pressed her breasts into his bare chest.

“Bedroom,” she breathed. Kylo didn’t need to be told twice.

He laid her on the bed softly, the orange of his lamps catching in her hair and her eyes. He kissed her again, softly. Rey kissed back, her hands pulling Kylo’s body on top of hers. He ground into her groin, and she keened, pressing back up into him. Kylo let out a ragged breath.

His hands slinked down to where her lacy panties hugged her hips, and slid a finger into the waistband. “May I?” He asked.

“Please,” Rey smiled, her golden aura of hair bathing her face in an ethereal glow.

With that, Kylo dragged them down her legs. He slowly leaned between her thighs, trying desperately to ignore the shaking of his hands.

Kylo kissed the inside of Rey’s thigh, and she bucked up, nearly knocking him over. “Easy,” Kylo crooned, and Rey groaned at the sound of his voice.

Kylo dragged his tongue up onto her pubic mound, dancing around her labia with an almost surgical precision. Rey shuddered.

He kissed slowly to her slit, Kylo’s nose accidentally nudging Rey’s clit. She keened, her back arching up off the bed. Kylo laughed, kissing her nub softly. Rey bucked again, a sultry moan tumbling from her lips.

Kylo was straining in his pants. Rey tasted like a cool breeze in summer, sharp but comforting. His tongue flicked over Rey’s clit, and she groaned once more. Kylo exhaled happily. Ben could have never done this.

He brought a finger up to Rey’s hole, dragging it over her fold while his mouth continued on her clit. Rey’s legs were shaking.

“Please,” she moaned, raising a hand to drag through her hair.

Kylo did as he was told; his finger slid into Rey. “Holy shit,” Kylo’s voice was shaking almost as much as Rey’s legs were.

She let out a low growl, winding her fingers into Kylo’s hair. Rey yanked him back into her, his mouth joining his finger in pleasuring the angel before him.

“Oh,” Rey mewled, “I’m close, I’m, I’m really close.”

Kylo added another finger, and Rey hiccuped with pleasure. She tugged on his head, pulling his hair more than Ben thought could ever be enjoyable, let alone sexy.

She bucked up, trying to receive Kylo’s fingers as deep as she possibly could. Kylo stretched her out, curling his fingers towards him. Rey gasped, her thighs wrapping around Kylo.

He nipped at her clit and worked in a third finger. Rey was whining, panting with each thrust of Kylo’s fingers.

Rey’s leg began to spasm, and Ben pumped his fingers faster, nipping and pulling gently at Rey’s nerves. She came with a scream that probably woke all of New Mexico.

Kylo’s arousal was coiled deep in his stomach, dimly throbbing.

Rey tugged him up by the hair, pulling Kylo into a fierce kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and Rey sucked, her cheeks hollowing. As Kylo pulled away, Rey bit down on his lip, nearly drawing blood. Kylo didn’t think he’d ever been harder in his life.

Kylo slid off his pants with shaking hands and snatched a condom from his bedside table. He pulled Rey into another gauche kiss, her purring vibrating down to his core.

Once everything was in order, Kylo positioned himself at her entrance, waiting for the go-ahead from Rey.

“Please,” she said.

With that, Kylo broke. He pushed into her, bracing himself above her. Her soft pants drifted into his neck as he sank in.

Rey’s hands came up to hold his back, her pointed nails digging into Kylo’s skin. She groaned, and Kylo began to thrust.

Rey was warm and smooth, and Kylo felt like he was going to burst instantly.

Kylo picked up the pace, his headboard banging into the wall at a volume that was sure to attract annoyed neighbors. Rey’s breasts bounced on her chest, and Kylo caught one in his mouth and sucked. His cheeks hollowed, and Rey nearly fell apart.

Traveling up Rey’s breasts and neck, Kylo bit and sucked, leaving little bruises and marks as a guide to where his mouth had been.

Rey’s walls were convulsing around Kylo, and he lowered one of his hands to press gently on Rey’s clit, the friction from both his hand and cock causing her to spasm.

“Kylo,” she groaned, “I’m going to come.” He nodded.

Rey’s walls pulsed around his cock, and she let loose a scream that sounded suspiciously like his name. Kylo responded by spilling into her, panting and grunting with a fervor that Rey matched.

The pair fucked through their high, and when Rey finally collapsed, Kylo withdrew from her. He peeled his condom off and tossed it.

Rey was warm, her hands sprawled across Kylo’s chest as she dozed off. Kylo smiled, still bathing in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms of his life.


	2. Two

Kylo awoke to an empty bed and a trilling alarm clock. All traces of the night before had evaporated into the early light of dawn, it seemed.

The clock read eleven, and Kylo cursed, bolting out of bed. His first lecture was at half noon, and he had to shower and gather this things.

By the time Kylo had collected everything necessary and had set up in his office, it was quarter twelve. His iced coffee had long since melted into a watery abomination, and the attendance sheet had disappeared into the mess of his briefcase. Oh well. He could deconstruct his briefcase in the lecture hall.

There were a smattering of early students, and a girl asleep in the front row. Kylo waited until it was exactly 12:30 to lock the doors to the lecture halls, and the cold glare he gave the stragglers rounding the corner was enough to scare them into a sprint. Kylo let three in, but the moment the clock reached 12:31, the doors locked.

“Tardiness is not tolerated in my class,” he said, “today, I was lax with that rule. On Wednesday, I will not be so benevolent. Be here at 12:20.”

The class nodded, save the group in the back that was vaping velmently. Kylo snapped at them, his fingers cracking through the air. “Leave,” he told them.

No response. “If you are not going to take this class seriously, leave.”

Still nothing. Kylo picked up a book that someone else had left on the podium and lobbed it at the students in the top row, glad that his class took place in one of the smaller rooms. The book smashed into one of the student’s desks, and he recoiled, the vape pen going flying.

“If you are not here to take my class seriously,” Kylo bellowed, “leave!”

The students shut up.

Kylo turned back to his desk, grabbing the attendance sheet. He managed his way through the entire first half of the list before realizing that the sleeping girl in the front row had not been jolted awake by Kylo’s fit of rage.

“Ms. Kenobi,” he read, “Wake up.”

No response. One of the vaping kids snickered.

“Ms. Kenobi,” he repeated, shaking her shoulder slightly. “Ms. Kenobi.”

She awoke with a jolt, sitting bolt upright. Kylo suddenly found himself locked in intense eye contact with Rey from last night, complete with tired eyes and hickeys down her neck. Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Kylo staggered, backward. Holy shit. “Glad you could join us, Ms. Kenobi.” Holy shit. He was going to lose his job. Didn’t Rey say that she was a mechanic?

“I am Professor Ren,” He continued. “This class is not going to be your typical literature course. We will be analyzing novels and other media that subvert classic themes in American Literature, so if you skipped your high school version of this course, you are in trouble. A foundation in the typical works found in American Literature courses - such as ‘To Kill A Mockingbird,’ ‘the Great Gatsby,’ ‘the Sound and the Fury,’ and others - is not only recommended, but required. As we are going to be subverting classic tropes, knowledge of said tropes is absolutely imperative to this course. Understand?” Holy shit. Did his voice sound normal? Was he sweating?

A chorus of ‘yes sir’ rang through the room. Rey had begun typing quickly on her laptop, presumably typing out notes.

“A primary focus of this course will be on gothic literature. This encompasses not only southern gothic titles, but also southwestern gothic, northeastern gothic, and suburbia gothic. We will also be focusing on novels written by American Indian authors. This medium will also be used to challenge one’s perception of ‘American’ literature as a whole.” Kylo cleared his throat. “As previously mentioned, tardiness is not acceptable, and the doors to this lecture hall will be locked during this class period. As such, use the restroom and acquire whatever you need before coming in. There are no exceptions to this rule.”

Rey licked her lips and nodded, scanning Kylo’s figure. His breathing picked up as she met his eyes. Holy shit. He was going to go hell.

Kylo cleared his throat. “If you disagree with my teaching method or the contents of the syllabus,” he gestured to a towering pile of papers on his desk, “drop this class. It will not offend me. I do not have time for people who are not taking this class seriously. Regardless of if you are here to fulfill graduation requirements or if you love American literature, I expect full effort on every assignment, and I will not accept anything less.”

He moved, grabbing the piles of syllabi. “Come get your syllabus,” he commanded, “I’m not going to walk around and pass them out like you’re kindergarteners.”

Rey jumped up, banging her knee on her chair. Kylo made heavy eye contact with her as she strode to his desk, picking up a packet.

He licked his lips, “Rey, stay after class please.”

She whisked around, her hair almost whacking him in his face. The syllabus weighed nearly a pound, and Rey let it slam onto her table.

With shaking hands, Kylo began to describe each page in the syllabus in detail, outlining each assignment and paper. In the blink of the eye, Kylo’s lecture period was up.

“It is now 1:30,” he unlocked the doors, “this class meets again on Wednesday. I expect you to read through the assigned reading by the next class, and excuses are not tolerated.”

The students filed out, and Kylo turned to make eye contact with Rey. He opened his mouth to speak, and Rey bolted out of the classroom.

He rushed after her, but she had rounded the corner by the time Kylo had made it out of the lecture hall. “Goddammit,” he cursed.

The podium toppled over, and Kylo threw the books the slob of a previous professor had left lying around at the wall. The detached desks were soon flipped over, and by the end of his fit, Kylo had successfully destroyed the front of the lecture hall.

Whatever. It wasn’t his fault that some sorority girl wasn’t mature enough to stay and talk with him. (Repeating that mantra internally did little to aid his pounding heart.)

Dinner that night was nearly an entire pack of cigarettes, his porch ashtray overflowing. He might lose his job. Not only that, she was going to be in his class for the rest of the semester. Honestly, Kylo wasn’t sure if he wanted to see her three times a week or if he wanted her to drop his class.

Was she even legal? Kylo nearly burnt himself. He didn’t know how old she was, or what the New Mexico consent laws were. He was way out of range for the Romeo and Juliet law, anyway. Holy shit.

So much for hammering the final nail into Ben Solo’s coffin. This had to be one of his biggest fuck ups, barring the Incident.

He was mad at Rey for lying and saying she was a mechanic instead of a student, and he was mad at himself for lying and saying that he was a writer instead of a goddamn professor. Maybe, if one of them had told the truth, Kylo would have had the sense to not have the best sex of his life with her.

The best sex of his life - really? Kylo spat off his porch.

San Amaro was Kylo’s last hope. He had to keep this job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy! Thank you for all the words of encouragement! This work has fourteen planned chapters and an epilogue. My fandom tumblr is @wnda-maximoff and my main tumblr is @jasp-r! Please leave kudos if you enjoyed! Constructive comments are more than welcome.


	3. Three

Wednesday came with the sun, bright and all too quickly. Kylo stared at his clock, daring it to move past half ten. He had been up since five, prepping for his lecture and absolutely not procrastinating thinking about Rey. 

He had gone on a jog, and he watered his indoor cacti, giving the outdoor ones a light mist. Kylo had reread his slideshow for later nearly six times. He had even emailed Phasma for advice.

She had responded that Profesora Tano was busting her ass and that she couldn’t proofread it thoroughly but it looked good. Kylo did not miss being a TA.

Granted, he was an Anthropology TA at Columbia, but the past the was the past. Kylo hadn’t spared New York a single thought after the Incident.

There were gunshots outside. Kylo rolled his eyes. It was eleven on a Wednesday.

Kylo drove the the campus, dumping his bag on his desk and stalking to the on site coffee shop.

An iced coffee in his hand and a cigarette on his lips, Kylo glared at some students at the table he always smoked at, and the freshman scurried away. The spot was the best for smoking, as the smoke could be blown away from the bustling quad. Minutes passed, and Kylo finished his cigarette and got to work on his coffee.

The doors to the science department swung open, and Profesora Tano strolled out, her braids dancing across her back. “Lo siento, Rey, pero no exceptions can be made.”

Low and behold, Rey popped out, “pero Profesora, me conoces!”

“Mija,” Tano turned around, her big hand covering Rey’s shoulder, “I really wish an exception could be made. Sin embargo, Profesor Skywalker está lejos!”

Kylo stiffened, the name striking straight through him. He really, really wished he had bothered to learn Spanish.

Profesora Tano turned and glided away, her steps far too lithe for a woman of her age. Rey’s gaze wandered and landed on Kylo.

He pretended not to see her, fiddling on his cell phone.

Much to his surprise, the sun was suddenly blocked by a Rey shaped shadow.

She opened her mouth to say something, but a jovial call of “Rey!” tore her eyes away from him and to a charming man with dark hair and a flat nose. Rey darted away.

Kylo sneered. Whatever. He didn’t care anyway.

The room was empty when Kylo barreled into the hall. “Goddamnit,” he said, slamming his laptop down on the podium. She was gorgeous, like the soft sounds of viola mixed with acoustic guitar and an iced coffee that wasn’t too bitter. Rey was the sun, shining down on the springtime birds and their new families, blessing every animal in her watchful, loving gaze.

Of course she’d be Profesora Tano’s pet. Kylo couldn’t turn a fucking corner without seeing Tano staring at him expectantly, the firsthand account of his grandfather’s legacy too daunting a task to even look Tano in the eyes. As a child, Ahsoka had come over often, talking with his parents and Luke, sharing stories about Kylo’s grandfather and their friend Ben. She was a delight, having fought with Grandfather in the War, and she could speak Spanish and Togruta and she spoke to Aunt Maz and Uncle Chewie with big expressions and animated hand movements.

Kylo would be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful for Profesora Tano’s help; after all, she was the reason he secured the job at San Amaro University. Kylo was pretty sure that she either didn’t know about the Incident, or she didn’t know that Kylo was responsible.

Rey had seemed so interested in literature the first night they met - she had asked him an engaging question and Kylo was almost sure she was going to go on a long tangent about how Capote was the single best author of all time or some other true-crime junkie nonsense. Alas, fate had it out for him. Why wouldn’t Rey (who Kylo was pretty sure was his dream girl, besides being her professor) be a science genius like his uncle and his grandfather and Tano and goddamn everyone in his life? Kylo’s mother always said that he was a Naberrie, not a Skywalker. What he would give to be a Skywalker - just typical.

Half twelve rolled around all too quickly. Rey was the first student in the room, arriving at quarter past, but upon seeing Kylo alone in the hall she quickly backed out and presumably sat outside and waited for a classmate to appear. Kylo slammed his fist into the lectern, breaking the glasses that sat there. Well, whoever left them on the lectern obviously didn’t need them that badly.

Other students began to trickle in, and Rey finally made a reappearance. Her eyelids were glittery, and her face seemed more ethereal than Kylo remembered. He swallowed, his hands shaking a little bit.

The hall’s doors were locked at precisely half twelve. Kylo made eye contact with the student rounding the corner in a panic and locked the doors anyway.

“Is journalism nonfiction or fiction?” Kylo strolled back to the lectern, starting his presentation.

No one raised a hand. Kylo let out a long hiss of a sigh. “If no one answers me, we will be here all day.”

Very hesitantly, someone in the third row raised their hand.

“Yes?”

“Nonfiction,” they swallowed, “sir.”

“Are you sure?” Asked Kylo.

The student fidgeted. “Yes?”

“You don’t sound sure,” Kylo raised an eyebrow.

The student’s eyes darted around, looking for a helping hand. “I,” they paused, “I was sure until you questioned me, sir.”

Kylo stared the student down. “My effect on your brain function is that profound? My, maybe I should’ve gone into mentalism as opposed to teaching.”

“That’s enough,” Rey glared at Kylo. “Journalism is a blend of both. A completely nonfiction work would have to be totally objective, which is neigh impossible for a human (an inherently subjective creature) to create.”

Kylo sat back, his heart pounding. He felt light-headed. Rey was absolutely perfect.

“Absolutely correct,” Kylo smiled, thrumming his fingers on his lectern. “The amount of fiction and nonfiction in each individual piece varies on the author’s style and purpose - for example, Capote’s ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ is a form of embellished journalism where the source material is a sort of oral history but the author delves into creative writing techniques to engage the reader and make the novel more profitable. Wolfe’s ‘Bonfire of the Vanities’ is another example of this technique, whereas Capote and Wolfe’s other writing endeavors were heavily weighed in the objective manner (barring Wolfe’s later journalism efforts) - of course, as Ms. Kenobi pointed out, many argue that writing an absolutely objective piece is impossible.”

Rey sat back in her chair, uncrossing and crossing her legs, Kylo’s eyes were drawn to her thighs, and slowly dragged up to her eyes. She had an eyebrow cocked and her face was devoid of emotion. She looked . . . bored.

Kylo kicked off his lecture on the different kinds of narrative journalism full force, starting from early political comics and leading into ‘nonfiction novels.’ He kept eye contact with Rey for almost the entire lecture. Her gaze followed his jaw and sometimes danced to his chest, but always snapped back to Kylo’s eyes.

Rey’s fingers tapped the entire period, moving from her jaw to her thigh to her computer and back to her jaw. Kylo watched them with perverted interest, his mouth nearly salivating at how Rey was teasing him.

Kylo’s period was almost up. “Ms. Kenobi,” he drawled, clicking his projector off. “Please stay after class. I have matters to discuss with you.”

Kylo hoped that his public request would persuade her to stay and talk. Previously, he had simply asked her in private and she was able to bolt with no one sensing something was amiss.

Rey met Kylo’s eyes, raising an eyebrow. “About what, Professor?”

Kylo exhaled, “matters concerning Profesora Tano.”

That seemed to pique her interest: Rey cocked her head, clearly confused.

Sure enough, Rey did not join the flurry of students fleeing from the lecture hall. She remained in her seat. Kylo turned to look at her, “Rey, come with me to my office.”

“No,” she said.

Kylo furrowed his brow, “why not?”

“I don’t feel comfortable going with you to a private space. What is it about Profesora Tano?”

Another sigh from Kylo, “whatever. Come have coffee with me in the quad, then.”

Rey exhaled sharply at Kylo’s dismissal, her nostrils flaring. “Whatever,” she sneered, grabbing her bag and striding ahead of Kylo, not waiting for him to clean up his papers.

He left his briefcase and papers in the hall, hurrying with Rey down a corridor. “I just want to talk, nothing more.”

No response. She turned the corner fiercely, her ponytail whacking Kylo in the throat.  
“Rey!” An excited call came from a bench in the sunny lawn of the quad. The dark haired man from before sat there with a few other people, Poe Dameron with them.

“You’re friends with Dameron?” Kylo asked as Rey shook her head at her clique.

“What’s it to you?”

Kylo pursed his lips, his hand on the small of Rey’s back. “He and I grew up together. We go way back.”

“Then,” Rey let him steer her into the shop, “why hadn’t I heard of you before? Poe was my ride at that bar, you know -” She turned red.

“Yes,” Kylo smiled, “I remember the bar.”

“If you two are friends, why don’t you hang out with us?” Rey asked, leaning against the wall as Kylo stood in line.

“Were,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

Kylo shrugged, “we were friends. I don’t think we are anymore.”

“You don’t think?” Rey asked, “what is that supposed to mean?”

Another shrug, “we fell out of contact when he moved down her with Ahsoka, his godmother.”

“Wait,” Rey shoved herself into Kylo’s line of sight, “Ahsoka is Poe’s godmother?”

“Yeah.” Kylo said.

Rey put her hands on her hips. “He knows that she’s my advisor! I can’t believe he never told me,”

“Tano is your advisor?” Kylo found himself asking, stepping forward in line.

Rey nodded, “she got me a scholarship here.”

“Do you live on the reservation with her, Maz, and Poe?”

“No,” Rey said, “she is a regular at the auto shop I work at.”

“So you are a mechanic!” Kylo smiled.

“It wasn’t a lie,” Rey turned red, “just not the whole truth.”

Kylo stepped up and ordered, letting Rey order a cookie with her coffee.

“Mine was too,” Kylo said, leading her to his preferred table.

Rey hummed, furrowing her brow. “What?”

“I do actually write,” he smiled, putting his chin in his palm. “Just not well enough to support myself with.”

Rey chuckled. “Cute.”

Kylo felt himself turning red. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No,” she shrugged, “but you have to let me have a few drags.”

“You smoke?” He raised an eyebrow. Rey smiled, turning away from him.

Kylo lit up, and Rey grabbed their drinks when they were ready. The pair sat in a steady silence for a few moments, before Kylo opened his mouth to speak.

“I really like you,” blurted Rey. She covered her mouth with both hands, turning bright red. “I’ll take that drag now.”

Kylo handed over the cigarette and took a long sip of his iced coffee. “Thank you.” He looked around before lowering his voice and saying, “the feeling is mutual.”

Rey exhaled, smoke dripping from her nose. “The thing is, we don’t exactly know each other, like, at all. Also, you’re probably like fifteen times my age and I don’t know if that is legal? Like, I’m nineteen, so I’m of age, but it’s still weird, I guess? And! You’re a teacher - not just a teacher, but my professor! I don’t know law very well, but I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in some way shape or form. Also - I really need this scholarship and if even a little scratch shows up on my record, Tano says that the deal’s off, and having a relationship with a professor is a whole lot more than a little scratch on my record, even if I pull the ‘I’m a gullible freshman and he guilted me into it!’ card - which I wouldn’t do, by the way.” She inhaled, handing back the cigarette, “plus, like I already said, we don’t really know each other outside of the bedroom” (Rey turned red) “and although that was great, I don’t really feel comfortable in a relationship or even a purely physical thing with someone that I barely know. Like, what if we’re related or something crazy!”

Kylo took a long sip of his coffee. “My thoughts exactly. I’d like to get to know you better, so that even if no sort of relations occur we can try to be friends - or at least, acquaintances.”

Rey stuck out her hand, “Nice to meet you. I’m Rey, engineering major at San Amaro University.”

Kylo shook it, “I’m Kylo Ren, American Literature professor at San Amaro University. Why engineering?”

Rey shrugged, “I like taking things apart and finding how they work. Why American Literature?”

“SAU doesn’t have a Classics department, so I defected.”

“Classics,” Rey scoffed, “really?”

“Oh yeah,” Kylo wiggled his eyebrows, “I love translating Ancient Greek to English. It’s actually my favourite pastime.”

Rey let out a sparkling chime of a laugh, and Kylo’s chest hurt.

“Classics to . . . AmLit? What about Anthro or History or something?” Rey asked.

Kylo ignored the sudden pang that went through him at mention of Anthro. “I like words the most. Words are very customizable but still easily consumed - some of the time. It’s different than math, which is a set and logical. Language is extremely fluid and flexible.”

“I like math for that exact reason - it doesn’t change,” Rey smiled, “it’s a nice constant in my life.”

Silence crept between the pair, but it was a warm, comfortable silence.

Sure enough, the doors to the science department flung open with the temper of a thousand storms - Profesora Tano emerged. Her steps thundered down the corridor, and she paced back and forth a few times, her braids flying with each movement she made, her hands painting an angry conversation before her. Cursing in Togruta and Spanish flooded the quad, and many students looked up to see what the commotion was - as soon as they saw it was Tano, work resumed as normal.

Profesora Tano eventually scanned the courtyard, her eyes narrowing when she saw Kylo and Rey sharing a table. “Mija!”

Rey waved happily, and Kylo stifled a groan.

“Why are you sitting with ese traidor?” She stormed over.

Rey exchanged a confused look with Kylo. “Traidor? por qué?”

Tano huffed, “No importa. Venir, tengo mucho que discutir con usted.”

Rey stood, bidding farewell to Kylo. “See you later?”

“Sure,” he said.

Rey and Tano made it halfway to the science department before Rey realized her mistake; she grabbed a pen from her pocket and ran back to Kylo, scribbling a phone number on his hand.

She disappeared into the hallway without so much as a wave. Kylo sat back, rubbing his eyes. Rey was giving him whiplash.

That night, Kylo pulled out his cellphone and composed a message to the number on the back of his hand; I’m only twenty-nine.


	4. Four

Kylo’s door rattled with angry knocks. He rolled out of his bed, still foggy from his siesta. “Who is it?”

“Kylo,” came a familiar voice, “open this door right now.”

“What do you want, Dameron?”

“I want you to stop fucking around with my friends!”

Kylo threw the door to his apartment open, beaning Poe in the nose. “Shit,” Kylo said.

“Can I come in?” Blood was running down Poe’s face.

“Yeah,” Kylo stepped aside, “sorry about that.”

“No problem,” Dameron walked in, making a beeline for the kitchen. “I was standing too close. Expected the door to open inwards.”

“Everything about this place is backwards.” Kylo commented, following Poe.

“Don’t you start with me; I’m still mad.”

“About what?”

Poe rolled his eyes, “Rey goddamn Kenobi, that’s what.”

Kylo cursed internally, slamming the first aid kit down on the counter. “What about it?”

“You can’t fuck around with one of your students, man.” Poe snatched the kit. “Plus, she’s my friend. She lets me practice work stuff on her.”

“Is that why her face is so glittery?” Kylo asked, not really wanting to know (or caring. He didn’t care about how pretty she was. He didn’t think about how beautiful she was as they texted each other all night).

“You betcha.” Poe grinned, “Becca launched a new highlighter and I’m seeing if it works on her skin tone and type any better than the others - hey, don’t get me off topic.”

“You brought up your work.”

Poe sighed, “what are you doing, man? You were hot shit in New York,” (Kylo stiffened.) “so why fuck around with one of your students? Like - shit, man, you could go out to any bar in all of New Mexico and find a chick ten times hotter than Rey and fuck around with her. Come on - it’s sloppy, it’s unprofessional, it’s inappropriate, to say the least.” Poe shook his head, “Rey’s a great girl, I know she is, and she’s really mature, but you are her professor and she is your student. That is not a healthy balance of power, no matter how you two go about it. I know Rey, and she overestimates herself sometimes. Don’t let this mess you up - we need you on your feet at SAU.”

Kylo banged his fist into his counter: “you think I don’t know that? What do you take me for - a sex-obsessed pedophile waiting for the next student to line up so that they can fuck high grades out of me? I know I messed up - Rey knows she messed up! I know!”

“Then,” Poe swung down onto the kitchen floor, “why haven’t you ended it yet?”

“Jesus Christ,” Kylo rolled his eyes, stepping away.

“Don’t ‘Jesus Christ’ me, mister. I need a real answer. Someone is going to find out about you two and you’re going to get fired and Rey’s going to lose her scholarship. She can’t afford SAU without it.” Poe kicked aside one of Kylo’s chairs. “Don’t do this to her.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m the one who started this! She came onto me!” Kylo hissed.

“From Rey’s point of view, you seduced her with your oh-so-dreamy eyes,” Poe stomped a little quicker, rushing to catch up with Kylo’s long paces. “And, she was super drunk. She had three margaritas and some shots. You could get sued for that.”

“I didn’t know she was my student! She told me she was a mechanic!”

Poe scoffed, “we both know that bar is overrun with SAU students.”

“We only had sex once,” Kylo ran his fingers through his hair, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, Mr. Hotshot, it’s not a big deal to you,” Poe growled, “but Rey is nineteen. It may have well been her first time having penetrative sex.”

Kylo stopped, dead in his tracks, “was it?”

Poe shook his head, “she said it was the first time she’d orgasmed at the hand of someone else - literally.”

Kylo turned bright red. “Do you guys share all the gory details of everything with each other?”

“Yeah,” boasted Poe, “Finn, Rey, and I. The three musketeers. Hey - stop getting me off track!”

“Did you see that Too Faced released a liquid blush?”

“Kylo,” Poe warned, “don’t even joke about Too Faced’s blush line. They’ve sworn off liquids forever; you and I both know that.”

“Yeah,” Kylo rolled his eyes, “but you’re still going to check the Sephora website as soon as you’re done lecturing me.”

“Bet your ass I am,” Poe narrowed his eyes. “You need to call this off before it gets out of hand. Haven’t you read the Crucible?”

“I’m an American Literature professor. Of course I’ve read the Crucible.”

“Don’t let Rey turn into Abigail Williams,” Poe warned, “she’s young, and has a bright future. Don’t you dare ruin that for her.”

“You’re the one who ditched her at that bar, Dameron,” Kylo exhaled through his teeth.

“I know,” Poe sighed, “that was shitty of me, but I didn’t think she’d run into Ben goddamn Solo and get it on.”

Kylo stiffened, “don’t call me that.”

“What, too many bad memories? Grow up, asshole. You don’t get to blast off to New York, wreck everyone’s lives, come back here with your tail in between your legs and expect to be exempt from the fallout.” Poe stomped into Kylo’s face, glaring up at him. “Ahsoka got you hired at SAU, don’t embarrass her by destroying yourself and Rey. Leave her alone, or I’m going to report you to Ahsoka.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” hissed Kylo.

“Watch me,” Poe turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

Kylo yelled, plunging his hand through the thin drywall of his apartment. “Goddamnit!”

He can’t fucking have anything! Thought he’d have a new start in his grandfather’s home state but fucking Poe Dameron was intent on making him feel like shit. Dameron - goddamnit, that boy got everything he ever asked for. He had men and women offering to take him out on lavish dates and had an amazing part time job doing what he loved and he was a TA at a good university and he was just so perfect and he had the nerve (the nerve!) to order Kylo around like he was a child who needed to be reminded of ethics. Kylo was sick of it! He was sick of Poe, sick of Ahsoka, sick of being treated like he was stupid because goddamnit he wasn’t stupid!

Kylo’s phone began to trill, his stupid ringtone blasting. “Hello?”

“Kylo?” It was Rey, “or should I call you professor? I don’t know what I’m doing, sorry.”

“Kylo is fine,” he tried to mask the frustration in his voice, “what’s on your mind, Rey.”

She stayed quiet for a few beats, “do you want to go see a movie after my classes today?”

After her classes. Kylo exhaled slowly. “Maybe - let me check my schedule.”

“Should I hang up, or?”

“No,” laughed Kylo, “you’re fine. One second.”

Kylo flipped through his planner - her classes! God, he felt like a pedophile. “I can do Saturday evening. Would you like to go grab dinner somewhere? I know a great Vietnamese place near campus.”

Rey giggled, “yes! That sounds great. Pick me up at six outside the rightmost dorm?”

“Of course,” Kylo sighed, “see you tomorrow.” He hung up before Rey could bid him farewell.

Outside the dorm? God! Kylo was just going to pull up to the campus he worked at in his shitty car and take a student - no, his student - out for Vietnamese food? What was he doing!

Begrudgingly, Kylo filled the hole his fist had made in the wall with spackle and began making his powerpoint for the next day of class.


	5. Five

Kylo ran fifteen miles. He went through a whole pack of cigarettes as his breakfast. He downed four iced coffees and reread his lecture notes and presentation at least thrice. He listened to all of Radiohead’s discography and read the first half of ‘the Autobiography of Malcolm X.’ He watered his cacti and cleaned up his apartment, sanding down the spackle from the day before.

Kylo Ren was nervous.

Not just nervous - he was goddamn terrified.

Before, he had the ‘I didn’t know she was my student’ excuse. Now, Rey and Kylo knew each other, knew their positions, knew that Poe hated the idea of Kylo fucking around with Rey. If she let a word slip to Tano or anyone else Kylo would lose his job and be disgraced from working at a reasonable post ever again.

He knew it would make headlines - ‘Estranged Son of Secretary Organa Caught Sleeping With His Student!’ ‘Destructive Solo Son Ruins Everything - Again!’ ‘Genius Kid Ben Solo is Back and More Pitiful Than Ever!’

Kylo knew he should call her and cancel everything but oh god, her voice was a golden chime in the rain of Kylo’s shitty life and her eyes were the colour of the perfect hazelnut iced coffee and her hair was a beautiful waterfall of light dancing and cascading on her perfect freckled shoulders and goddamnit it had only been a week but Rey was seared into his brain: into his life: into his shitty goddamn imagination where he fantasized of her riding him in his office. It wasn’t fair to Rey but oh god Kylo wasn’t a man of good virtue. He was riding the train to hell and (much like Poe said) dragging Rey down with him; he was clawing at her perfectness and purity and tainting her with his ugly, ugly regret and stupid past.

Profesora Tano sent him dirty looks from across the faculty lounge; her ruddiness and sincerity a direct foil of Kylo’s crafted perfect facade over his shattered being. God, he sounded like Hemingway. Kylo hoped he wasn’t as damning of a lover as Hemingway.

Lover - what a petty word. Kylo didn’t know if he had ever experienced love - pure, unadulterated love. Sure, he cared for his parents once upon a time, but that was more of a societal expectation than a real emotion.

“Profesor,” Tano’s voice rang through Kylo’s fantasy, “qué haces con Rey? Vi a los dos ustedes hablando en el patio. Si usted pone un dedo en Rey, voy a desatar el fuego de los siete infiernos en usted.”

“You know as well as I do that I can’t speak Spanish, Profesora,” Kylo looked up at her, her tattoos glaring back with vigor.

“Stay away,” she began, “from Rey. If you fool around with her again, I will destroy you the way you destroyed your father.”

“I haven’t done anything of the sort,” Kylo lied. Holy shit! How did she know? Did Poe tell her? Did Rey?

“I saw the two of you en el patio,” Ahsoka spat, “perdón, en el courtyard. If you come close to her again, you will lose your job. Mark mis palabras.”

Kylo sneered as she slunk away. What a bitch - speaking to him like she knows him beyond his genius-kid (just like Anakin) farce. Was she this mean to Anakin as well? Kylo doubted it, as Padme was rumored to be one of the most benevolent Presidents ever and she still ended up dead at Kylo’s grandfather’s hand. Ahsoka would have never survived.

Esteemed war generals? Bah. Ahsoka has always struck him like a leech, trying to suck more influence off of Kylo’s mother and Kylo himself with every year. She was nothing - a washed-up Physics professor at a state school. War hero - Kylo’s ass.

Kylo paced around his office. He still had an hour to kill, and he contemplated calling Rey - alas, she probably had a class. A class! God, Poe was right. Ahsoka was right.

Pulling up a number he swore he had deleted, Kylo stared at his phone. Should he call his mother? She always knew what to do in times like this - she helped Ben Solo overcome his insecurities and self-loathing, once upon a time.

Surely, she wouldn’t help Kylo Ren. Murder, disappointment, failure, mistake.

Losing the job at Columbia was one thing, but fucking around with a student while Tano and Dameron forbid him to? Suicide. More suicide than ever.

Noon came around with a splattering of students nervously knocking on his office door and asking for a copy of the syllabus (they had lost theirs, it seemed). Kylo turned them away with a ‘copy your friend’s.’

Kylo sulked to his lecture hall, a fresh iced coffee in his hand. His temper was bubbling, simmering under his skin.

Rey was shining in the front row, a few flowers tucked into her hair. “Hello!”

“Good morning, Ms. Kenobi.” Kylo gave a tight smile. “How are you?”

“Positively sunny! Miss Phasma has been great to me, and she offered to boost me up to the next level of Calculus if I tested out. Professor Skywalker is still on vacation, so Profesora Tano is teaching Engineering and Physics, which is super cool!” Rey beamed, “how are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Kylo set his briefcase down, “reliving past haunts, but doing well.”

“Oh,” Rey’s brow furrowed, “what happened?”

She look gorgeous, with glittery orange eyes and her hair pinned back with a hibiscus. Her cheeks shone white gold in the artificial bath of fluorescent lecture hall light. Kylo was brought back to days where he would watch his mother paint her cheeks golden and then offer him some. Kylo - Ben, rather - never accepted the offer.

“Tell you later,” Kylo looked up as more students entered the hall. “Don’t want to arouse suspicion.”

“That won’t be the only thing aroused,” Rey sat smugly, wiggling her eyebrows and grinning, “Professor.”

Shit. Her growl shot straight to his groin. Rey had to be more careful - shitty jokes aside, this was going to be the death of him.

Kylo hadn’t even gotten through the first portion of his lecture before a chime of “Professor?” pulled him away from his powerpoint.

“I’m having some trouble understanding,” said Rey. (Bullshit!)

“I’m not taking questions right now. Come by my office after class,” Kylo turned back to his lecture, ignoring the knowing snickers leaking through the hall.

Kylo shot daggers to the back row, daring them to make a verbal accusation. The students shut up.

The lecture period couldn’t finish fast enough. Rey was giving him bedroom eyes from the first row, and his harsh tone had bullied other students into taking hasty notes.

Half one rolled around and Kylo glared at every straggler until only he and Rey were left in the room.

“Your question?” He gathered up his briefcase.

“Can I ask it in your office?”

Kylo held in a low groan. “Follow me.”

Rey shut the door behind them, clicking it locked. “Professor, whatever will I do.”

“What is it, Rey?”

She strolled closer - the succubus from the bar was back. Rey was giving Kylo whiplash.

“I thought you didn’t want anything too physical,” Kylo said.

“I thought you agreed with that notion,” she raised an eyebrow, suddenly reaching down and rubbing against his crotch.

Oh gee. “We have to be quiet,” Kylo choked out, “my office neighbors are old and mean.”

Rey kissed his neck, sucking and biting. “I don’t care.”

“Well,” Kylo said, “your job isn’t on the line.” Kylo knocked all the clutter atop his desk away before hoisting her up and onto it. “Before this gets out of hand,” oh god, Rey sucked on his jaw, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, “we need to get a few things straight.”

Rey leaned away from him, hands splayed on his bare chest under Kylo’s work shirt, “like what?” She rubbed her knee into his crotch and oh god she was giving him whiplash!

“Like how,” Kylo couldn’t concentrate, not with her knee rolling into his groin and her deft lips on his neck, “I am your teacher, and by that virtue hold more power in this relationship than you -”

Rey yanked him down to kiss her, and the citrus of her lip balm flooded him. Her tongue danced across Kylo’s lips, and he parted them readily. Her hands sliding to unbutton the rest of his shirt completely, Rey pulled Kylo’s lower lip into her mouth and sucked.

“I think,” Kylo panted, pulling away, “that we should go a little slowly, especially because I may be subconsciously pressuring you into fooling around with me.”

“You think you’re pressuring me into this?” Rey laughed, “I’ve been trying to send you bedroom eyes for the past hour.”

Kylo growled, ripping her legs apart and planting his waist between them. Rey kissed him with a hungry disposition, scraping her teeth over his lip and plunging her tongue into his mouth. Her tongue flicked against the roof of Kylo’s mouth and he groaned, grabbing her ass and squeezing experimentally.

Rey keened, arching up into him. Taking that as a sign of good progress, Kylo began to knead her ass with vigor.

Suddenly, Rey pushed him back with two hands. Kylo went stumbling off, whacking his head against his wall.

“Oh shit,” laughed Rey, “are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Kylo exhaled, straining against his trousers, “I’m just peachy.”

“I don’t need your attitude,” Rey purred, guiding Kylo into his office chair. She sunk down to her knees and Kylo let out a shaky exhale. Her small hands found his crotch, and Rey palmed him through his slacks.

“Oh my god,” Kylo threw his head back, attempting to keep his breathing balanced. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Rey looked up at him, her long eyelashes fluttering, “now, shut up and let me blow you.”

Sin.

Rey was pure sin as she unzipped his slacks, pulling Kylo’s cock from his pants. Her nails scraped the base, and one hand ducked down to caress his balls. Rey’s breath was hot and shallow on Kylo, her eyes scanning his erection with near celibate curiosity. “Rey,” he breathed, “is this your first -”

She cut him off by wrapping her lips around the head of his penis - oh god, she was warm and wet and she began to bob and Kylo was a fifteen year old kid again trying to keep himself from coming undone too early.

Rey’s hand moved to stroke the base while her head continued to bounce on Kylo’s tip. Her tongue danced on the underside of his dick and shit she found a spot that had Kylo jerking up into her and wrapping his fingers in her soft, silky hair. Rey pulled off of him with a wet, disgustingly lusty pop and Kylo was nearly panting with vigor.

Rey kissed down his shaft, her teeth barely scraping the vein that sat there. A hand was still committed to cupping his balls, while the other was gliding up and down on his shaft.

“Rey,” he groaned, halfway pulling her mouth up again - she took him in with one smooth movement, Kylo nearly bucking out of his chair. Rey’s haunches were nearly up against the underside of his desk, and she repositioned as to better get a good mouthful.

She bobbed and sucked, her tongue dancing in his slit and around his head. Kylo was moaning, praying that no one was in the hall.

His hips shuddered, and Rey gave a wicked smirk. “I’m going to come,” he exhaled.

In response, Rey took his erection down even farther in her throat - the glans hit the back of her mouth and she gagged. Throat pulsing around him, Rey looked up through her eyelashes - her swollen lips wrapped around Kylo’s cock, her hands dancing around his pelvis.

He came with a muffled shout, wanton electricity pulsing in his every vein. Rey had the audacity to keep sucking until Kylo pried her off with a gentle tug - saliva connected her to his softening cock and Kylo was nearly ready for round two.

“I have to go,” Rey ducked away from his kiss, grinning like the devil she was, “you can repay me tomorrow night?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Professor,” Rey grabbed her bag, “the pleasure is all mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going on a trip from this Wednesday to next Tuesday. The next update will be in a week, as I will not have my laptop with me. As a reward for waiting so long, I will publish the next chapter of this and a 20k word one-shot about the Winter soldier. I know, I know, everyone and their moms are writing about Bucky at the moment. Thing is: I don't care. Have a fun week! Go watch some X-Men cartoons, ya rascals.


	6. Six

Rey was a beacon of light, shining bundle of giggles with smiles and adoring eyes mixed in. She was far, far too good for Kylo - yet here she was, sitting across from him at his favourite Vietnamese restaurant, sucking up her iced tea with a giddy childlike-ness.

“You know,” he smiled, brushing hair from his face, “when you said tea, I would have imagined green tea.”

“You can take the girl from the south, but you can’t take the south out of the girl.” Rey smiled, mushing down her lemon with her straw.

“You’re from the south?” Kylo sipped at his water, admiring the way the low light of the restaurant hit Rey’s cheeks.

Rey shrugged, “I was living in New Orleans for a little bit, but I really like New Mexico. Where are you from?”

Kylo considered lying, but the truth spilled from his mouth anyway, “California.”

“Oh!” Rey lit up. “What part? I’ve always wanted to go. The beach - the sun - all those hippies! What do you think - could I live in a commune?”

Kylo laughed, “absolutely. I don’t think I could stomach the smell of all those hippies, however.”

Rey stuck out her tongue, “what a prude! I’ll have you know that my vegan deodorant smells like fresh lavender.”

“Thank you,” Kylo drawled, “that pleases me greatly.”

Their food arrived, and Rey dug in. Her phở was boiling hot, and Rey nearly spat it out all over Kylo. “That is scalding!”

“Haven’t you had Vietnamese food before?”

Rey shrugged, “I get Panda Express a lot.”

Kylo laughed, the sound coming deep from his stomach. “The broth is boiling so that the meat can finish cooking.”

“It’s still raw?” Rey asked, disbelief colouring her face.

“No,” Kylo laughed again, “just not all the way cooked.”

Fascinated, Rey prodded at her soup with her spoon. A slow, experimental sip yielded better results - Rey smiled slowly.

“Why San Amaro University?” Kylo asked, admiring her.

“Ahsoka comes by the shop I work at. She offered me a scholarship.”

Kylo nodded, taking a sip of his phở. “Ahsoka is a nice woman.” (Lie.)

“How do you know her?” Rey asked.

“She and my grandfather fought in the Great War together. Family friend ever since.” Kylo shrugged, “my godfather is Wookie. Ahsoka and he get on very well, and Poe’s grandmother completes their trio.”

“Why aren’t you and Poe close anymore?”

Kylo shrugged again - he knew why, but there was no way in hell he would tell Rey. He was a stormcloud and Rey was the sun. “Grew apart. My life has always entailed a lot of moving around, so it makes sense that we grew apart.”

Rey nodded, “I suppose so! What’s your favourite place so far?”

“That I’ve lived in?” (Rey nodded.) Kylo took a long sip of his water, thinking. “Probably New York City. Manhattan is really bustling, but it’s easy to blend in and assimilate.”

“I’ve never been,” Rey confessed.

“Do you enjoy crowds?”

Rey laughed, sipping at her phở, “it’s easy to lose yourself. I guess I haven’t been in enough crowds to judge.” She laughed again, “maybe you could take me sometime.”

Kylo smiled - yeah, that was never happening. He’d sooner relive the Incident than take the angel that was Rey to meet his demon of a mother. “Sometime.”

“Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon?” Rey began to prattle off her favourite destinations, the moody gold of the restaurant surrounding her in lavish scenery - the leafed paintings and soft violin swelled, and Kylo felt very nearly overwhelmed.

Rey’s voice was a symphony of chimes mixed with lemonade and a summer day after a slight shower. Her hair was a cascade of silk intertwined with a spool of gold and vanilla. Rey had dressed up, a dark beige duster wrapped around her chiffon dress - Poe must have helped dress her.

Sure enough, Poe’s peachy gold eyeshadow once again adorned Rey’s delicate eyes. Kylo wouldn’t put it past Poe to have given Rey a talk about consent and safe sex as he swept her cheeks with gilding shimmer.

Gold, gold, gold. Kylo sounded like a broken record.

“Where did you go to school?”

Rey broke Kylo out of his haze. “Columbia,” he answered.

“University?” Rey asked, “like, the one in New York?.”

Kylo nodded, waiting.

Rey let out a low whistle. “How’d you end up at SAU?”

And here it came.

The question. The one that Kylo had been anticipating since Rey waltzed into his life and grabbed his willpower with the slightest flick of her hair.

Kylo looked away, “I had a falling out with the school and was let go.”

“What happened?”

Kylo took a long sip of his soup. He did not want to talk about this and he knew that he should just say something and deflect the conversation but goddamn it he was stubborn and prideful.

“I had an argument with one of the professors about a personal matter and was asked to leave because of it,” Kylo divulged.

“A personal matter? That hardly seems like firing grounds.” Rey bit into a slice of pork.

Kylo shrugged, “who knows.”

He hoped her curiosity had been sated, but she quickly jumped to a new and somehow more offensive topic:

“What do your parents do?”

Kylo stiffened, “my mother was a professor at Columbia. She is currently Secretary of State.”

Rey perked up, eyebrows high on her face. “Your mother is Leia Organa-Solo?”

Kylo nodded, regretting opening his big mouth.

“Oh,” Rey beamed, “then your father was Han Solo? Shame what happened to him.”

Kylo’s hands were shaking.

“Suicide, wasn’t it? Are you coping well?”

“No,” Kylo said, voice firm. “It was murder, but my mother told the tabloids suicide because it put less blame on her. As if me losing my job wasn’t enough to blame me.”

“Oh,” Rey was quiet.

“So don’t talk like you know what my family is like because you read a few gossip magazines - I’d rather not continue this discussion,” Kylo stood, reaching for his wallet. “God, I’m an idiot. Going out with a student? I’m ten years older than you.”

“Well,” Rey stood, iced tea in her hand. “I’m sorry that I tried to show the very human trait of ‘empathy’ and that wasn’t mature enough for you. No wonder everyone on campus hates you.”

Kylo slammed a fifty onto the table. “Go back to your sorority.”

Rey threw her iced tea in his face. The lemon burnt his eyes.

Not five minutes after Kylo stomped back into his apartment did he receive a call from Poe:

“What?” Hissed Kylo.

“What the _fuck_ did I tell you? Stay away from Rey doesn’t mean go on a date with her and blow up at her because she made a small mistake!”

Kylo groaned, “fuck you. I’m not in the mood.”

“Yeah,” mocked Poe, “I’m not either, but Rey is sobbing in my bathroom and you’re the reason.”

“Cry me a river. She asked about my dad’s death.”

Kylo could hear Poe rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know you’re still sensitive about it, but you are an adult and you need to deal with your emotions like a functional person! Fuck you. Rey is nineteen.”

Poe hung up.

Kylo drove his fist back into the freshly spackled hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my trip was absolutely god awful. It suckerpunched me and I'm gonna have to take a little time to get back on my feet. Hence, the Winter Soldier one-shot will take a little more time and I'm changing the schedule for this work: updates will be every three days instead of every other day. They may return to every other day if I get back on my feet, but no promises. Sorry y'all.


	7. Seven

Most of October passed with a whisking whirl; the few leaves that blessed San Amaro turned orange and the Missions packed full of people preparing for the Day of the Dead.

Spanish flooded Kylo’s emails, and he was near ready to punch every one of his students. Rey had somehow turned his class into a sick game - send Professor Ren an email in Spanish that tells him to talk to Rey. How had she organized such a prank? Kylo knew that she was friendly, but militant attacks of kindness and concern reminded him all too much of his mother.

His mother had reached out to him - it was nearing the one-year anniversary of the Incident, and she was wondering if he was doing well.

Of course Kylo wasn’t doing well - he hadn’t done well since he was prepubescent. Rey’s disappointment and pity whenever she looked at him in class painted his dreams, and what had once been visions of Rey in his bed bouncing with wanton purpose became Rey and Poe and the dark-skinned man they fraternized with laughing at him. Ahsoka was a shadowy figure above them, her tattooed face sneering down at Kylo - screw up, screw up, screw up!

He woke up in a panting sweat with visions of his parents and grandfather looking down their noses at him. Dead father, dead grandfather, dead dead dead. Kylo should be dead. It should have been him who tumbled from that building, not beloved war hero Han Solo, husband of Secretary Organa, father of estranged fuck up Ben goddamn Solo.

Kylo was sure that Poe had told Rey all the juicy details of how he ruined everything by now - from Kylo’s failure in the military to his becoming a TA and getting kicked out of goddamn Columbia because he was a fucking baby and couldn’t control his emotions.

Kylo knocked over his lamp, the bulb shattering. Whatever. He’d deal with it when it was a problem.

A new coffee shop opened near his apartments, and after misting the indoor cacti, Kylo headed out. He hadn’t dared visit the on-campus cafe since his catastrophic date with Rey. 

Date? More like an exhibition highlighting all of Kylo’s failures: couldn’t keep it in his pants and fucked his student, managed to muck up every semi-good relationship he had at SAU, ignored his family and plunged them deeper into regret about ever siring him. Poe was vocal about how goddamn right he was, leaving voicemails complaining about Rey’s crying fits and moping and blaming it all on Kylo’s lack of common sense. 

Kylo ordered his iced coffee and treated himself to some crumb cake. The barista looked vaguely familiar; did Kylo know her from somewhere?

“Professor Ren!” She piped, handing him his crumb cake.

Great.

“Rey is very worried about you. Could you speak to her, please?”

“No.” Kylo turned and sat down, the coffee shop’s chair creaking below him.

“Professor Ren,” the barista pressed on. “Were you and Rey together? Like, _together_ together?”

“Frankly,” he exhaled, “that is none of your business and if you would like to stay in my class, I’d advise against speaking with Ms. Kenobi about me again. I will not be returning to this cafe again.”

Kylo stood, glared at the barista, and left. His coat billowed around his calves, and Kylo wished that New Mexico was as cold as Manhattan. He missed the bustling streets and the comfort of the snow and ice on the roads; he missed getting hot chocolate at Aroma and drinking it whilst he browsed in the Strand. Kylo missed teaching the brightest of the bright - the students at Columbia were rays of sunshine and the kids at SAU were bright eyed idiots at best.

Rey sat in the first row, her hair long and wavy and her face illuminated with golden shimmer. “Goodmorning,” she greeted him.

Kylo ignored her, slamming his briefcase on his lectern.

Class whisked by, and Kylo managed to only yell at half the students, Rey included.

“Professor Ren,” Rey chirped, “I have a question for you.”

The class filtered out and Rey sauntered close to his desk; Kylo stiffened, packing his briefcase up.

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

“You know why,” he said.

“No,” Rey insisted, trotting alongside him, “I really don’t.”

“What,” he sneered, “Dameron didn’t tell you? You two didn’t have a cute gossip party where you two compared stories of how sad and pathetic and mean I am?”

“Excuse me?” Rey followed Kylo into his office.

“Don’t play daft with me.”

Rey reached out to him.

In one swift movement, Kylo had Rey pinned against his office door, her arms held above her head. Rey’s short, warm puffs of breath hit where Kylo’s neck met his chest, and he felt as if she was the one holding him hostage.

“Kylo,” she breathed, her eyes dropping to his lips.

“Rey,” he growled, tightening his grip on her wrists, “learn to mind your own goddamn business. I don’t want to be around you. I don’t want to see you more than I have to. Sorry that I screwed you that one time. It’s not going to happen again. Go back to your co-ed.”

Rey pulled her wrist away and slapped him. “Then why did you lead me on!”

“I’m a fuck-up,” he choked out. “Leave.”

“You don’t have to bottle everything up! Tell me what’s wrong!”

Kylo shouted, driving his fist into the wall next to Rey’s head. “Leave!”

She left, and Kylo collapsed onto the rug, tears in his eyes. He wished he’d never been born. Why had he said that! At least Rey had given up - he couldn’t screw her up.

Would it be worth it to kill himself? Kylo’s eyes landed on the sharp blade of the knife he used to open letters. He could do it now. He could, and no one would care.

A loud knock shocked Kylo out of his pity - “yes?” He called.

“Ben,” came a voice, gruff and old. “I’m back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think im having a depression relapse yall


	8. Eight

Rey ignored Kylo like ice. Luke successfully dragged the worst of Kylo’s escapades out of him, and they sat with iced coffee and tea (respectively), not saying a word to each other.

“When I was abroad,” began Uncle Luke, “I saw many a thunderstorm. The sky would howl and the hills would roll with winds, oceans of grass cowering from the rain. Fire struck the ground, burning up all in its path and eating up the beauty on the soil.”

“Thanks,” Kylo snorted, “I know I’m a destructive mess, but there’s no need to air my dirty laundry.”

Luke gave him a stern look, “I’m not done.”

Kylo took a long drag, spitting the smoke at the science building Ahsoka and Rey hid in. Rey was acing his class. He had a wet dream about her and Kylo felt more and more like a co-ed every day.

“From the ashes, new flowers bloomed in wake of the storm. The waves the storm had shucked onto the hills nourished the flowers, and through the perils of the disaster, and the plants bloomed anew.”

“Jesus,” Kylo exhaled, “you could’ve just told me to pull a Jean Grey and get myself together.”

Luke tsked, “you and I both know that Jean Grey never actually got on top of things. Why do you think Emma’s the headmistress now?”

Kylo rolled his eyes.

“I digress,” Luke continued, “would you like another coffee?”

“No,” Kylo turned away, “I need to be going.”

“Where?”

The simple question caught Kylo off guard. “Home?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

Kylo shrugged. “Just going.”

Luke turned to face Kylo, “you’re running.”

“Yeah,” Kylo said, “no shit.”

“You like this girl?”

Kylo scowled, “how’d you know about the girl?”

Luke laughed, “what, you think Ahsoka and I haven’t gossiped? I may be old, but I’m still in the loop.”

“You saying things like that make me wants to push you outside the loop.”

“Be nice.” Luke finished his tea, “is it because the anniversary of his death is around the corner?”

Kylo froze, “don’t act like you understand.”

“I do, though. Do you know how your grandfather died?”

Kylo was bristling; his blazer was suddenly too tight.

“I watched him die. He died because of me, and I held him in my hands as he passed away.” Luke looked into Kylo’s soul, his blue eyes cutting through every one of Kylo’s defenses.

“It’s different,” Kylo choked out.

“How?”

“You didn’t kill him with your own hands like I did - I’m a fucking murderer.”

“Manslaughter, at most.”

Kylo gave a bitter laugh, “is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Quit being so hard on yourself!” 

“I don’t regret it!”

Luke was stunned into silence, “excuse me?”

“I don’t regret it,” hissed Kylo, “I stand by what I did.”

Kylo stood and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyyyyy boiz whaddup


	9. Nine

The card sat on Kylo’s table, glaring up with silent knowing.

_“Here,” said Luke, “I’m going, and I’m inviting you.”_

He drove to Ahsoka’s abode, the route etched in his memory despite not visiting for upwards of ten years. With his mother being Secretary of State, Kylo was whisked up north often.

Ahsoka’s home was out in the desert, with cacti and brush escorting the drive up to her residence. It was a red home, with adobe walls and a Spanish roof, low and sprawling with nothing but mountains and coyotes for miles. Her foyer had a coarse rug, the woven wool thicker and itchier than the clay floor itself - there was an alcove in the hall to put shoes in (no shoes in the house, of course), and a vibrant painting by Luke of an abstract Anakin, the contours of his face in blue and green and the high points in pink. His grandfather’s face had morphed into a collection of angles and brushstrokes, and Kylo often caught Ahsoka staring fondly at the portrait.

A parade of pickup trucks and off-roaders surrounded Ahsoka’s house - had she invited the whole nation?

Kylo smoothed his sweating hands on his black button down, his ensemble seeming too formal and far too casual all at once.

Normally, Ahsoka’s table would be jam packed with the whole extended family - not many of her friends survived the Great War, so she asked everyone to bring lots of company. Han brought Lando and Chewie, and Leia brought the Damerons, the Organas, and Maz, Luke brought Mara Jade and her friends, and the dining room got so full it was congested even standing. Ahsoka had, of course, taken this as a personal challenge to cook more than enough frybread, soup, and mutton to feed an army.

Kylo stepped out of his car, holding the wine he brought in his shaking hands - it was an expensive bottle, a bouquet Kylo thought Ahsoka would appreciate.

With a knock on the brightly painted door, Kylo was in over his head. God, Ahsoka was going to spit in his face and call him a fuck up, and Lando and Chewie would be forced to look the killer of their best friend in the eyes. His mother might be there - she would have that tutting politician look she always had during debates, the kind of look where you knew you were admitted just what she wanted but you couldn’t help it.

The door flew open to reveal Ahsoka herself, her face painted with warrior paint (every year she honored her fallen comrades by wearing war paint that resembled their own designs). “Kylo.”

“Ahsoka.”

“What do you want?” Her face was harsh.

“I was invited.” Kylo pulled the invitation from his pocket, handing it to Ahsoka.

She read over the card, brow raised. “I didn’t send you one.”

Kylo exhaled, holding up the wine. “I’ll just go, then. Enjoy the harvest.”

“Ahsoka!” Luke appeared in the doorway, “I invited him. Let him in, please.”

“Why?” Asked Ahsoka.

“Está tratando de cambiar,” the Spanish rolled off Luke’s tongue, and Kylo once again cursed himself for not being bilingual. “Dejarlo entrar, por favor.”

Ahsoka opened the door and snatched the bottle of wine from Kylo’s grasp. “Come in.”

Ahsoka’s home was just as he remembered, with flowers growing from the walls and pots of cacti on all surfaces. Kylo kicked off his shoes, putting them in the crowded cubby. Sure enough, Anakin’s blue gaze bore into him from his perch above the fireplace. Kylo hunched over in an attempt to make himself smaller.

The sitting room was full of familiar faces, and Kylo suddenly regretted coming at all.

Chewie sat next to Lando, football on the television and beer in hand. His dreads were pulled up in a messy ponytail, and Lando was shaking with laughter. Maz fretted around Luke, and Mara Jade was involved with a puzzle, her brow furrowed and mouth pursed. Leia sat with a glass of red wine in front of her, the newspaper marked up with her red pen, and Poe Dameron laughed with his friend, Finn, and Rey.

Rey.

Her hair was braided away from her face, and her heavy makeup matched with Poe and Finn, paying homage to Ahsoka’s own tattoos and warpaint. Her beige turtleneck was tucked into black jeans that were sinfully tight - she seemed like she was dipped in gold, rolled in roses, and rinsed in champagne.

Leia was the first to notice him. The grip on her wine glass faltered, and she swallowed. “Ben,” she said.

That caught the room’s attention - all eyes swung to focus in on Kylo. Chewie’s jaw set, and he grunted; Lando took a long, long drink of beer; Maz froze in place; Mara stood up suddenly, as did Poe; Finn’s expression was one of confusion, while Rey’s was a small frown.

“I thought you said he wasn’t going to be here,” Rey whispered into Poe’s ear, the soft lilt of her voice a sweet melody to Kylo.

“I didn’t think he’d show!” Poe insisted.

Chewie let out another grunt, “what are you doing, kid?”

Kylo shrugged, “Luke invited me.”

Ahsoka swept past Kylo, “todos! Be kind.”

“Why?” Sneered Lando, “kid has the nerve to show his face round here, I’ve the nerve to tell him why he should stay in hiding.”

Mara Jade whacked Lando in the neck, “he’s making an effort. The least you could do was reciprocate it.”

Leia still said nothing, her grip on the pen white with tension. She looked good - her greying hair up in an elaborate version of a braid crown with gold leaf ornaments adorning it. She wore a pantsuit, grey with beige accents and a very posh vibe - it was almost as if Kylo was meeting her for coffee and she was going to reprimand him for something or another she had seen in the tabloids. “Well,” he - Ben - would have said, “I guess I take after Han.”

Leia would have tutted, reaching out to brush his hair behind his ear.

The present Leia did neither of those things - she instead covered her mouth with a trembling hand and was forced to look her husband’s murderer in the eyes.

Luke clasped his hands together, striding up to peck Mara on the cheek. “Who wants some wine?”

With that, attention was on Luke, who laughed and began pouring glasses of the pricey wine Kylo had brought.

Rey still stared at him - her beautiful eyes wide and her hands latched on the edge of the countertop. Kylo smiled shyly at her, and she turned away.

A cold shard of rejection pierced Kylo’s heart - he knew it was coming, but it stung nonetheless. He brushed by the trio and into the kitchen, looking for a beer in the fridge. Kylo exhaled, attempting to cease the tremor in his hands.

“You guys want something?” He could barely hear himself speak, but Poe whipped around.

“You have white wine?”

Kylo nodded, taking his beer from the fridge and snatching a bottle of white from the rack that sat atop the fridge (how Ahsoka managed to reach the top by herself perplexed Kylo still).

“I’ll have a beer,” said Finn, looking somewhere past Kylo.

Rey stayed silent, and Kylo poured Poe his glass and cracked open the two beers.

“Water,” she said finally, “I’ll have water.”

“Ice or no ice?” Asked Kylo, not completely facing her.

Rey stood her ground, “ice.”

It was an agonizing while until Ahsoka managed to set the table and put out the food - first was three sisters stew, then potatoes and lamb chops and carrots, then frybread with fresh tomatoes and goat cheese.

“So,” started Chewie, “why are you back home?”

Kylo shrugged, “I got fired from my job. Ahsoka offered to help me get a job so I could get back on my feet, after I moped in self pity for half a year.”

Chewie turned to stare at Ahsoka. “What can I say,” she gestured, “everybody needs a second chance. It’s not like we’re going out and hitting the town together.”

Without thinking, Kylo’s eyes jumped to Rey, who was staring at him as she stabbed her lamb chop.

“What have you been doing lately?” Chewie looked back at Kylo.

“I’m a professor at San Amaro University. American Literature.” Kylo took a long drink of beer, “Students say I’m a hardass.”

Leia let out a little laugh - despite her chatty nature, she had been silent all afternoon. “Do you like it?”

The table fell silent.

“Yes,” breathed Kylo.

Leia nodded, and went back to her soup.

Ahsoka proceeded to tell everyone of how great her students were, and how many of them aspired to build planes and spacecrafts and boats.

It was four beers in when Lando finally spoke: “why did you do it?”

The congregation, now holding bowls of ice cream, collectively froze.

“Do what?” Asked Kylo, setting his bowl down.

“You know what,” insisted Lando.

“I really don’t,” Kylo wanted to bolt.

“Killed your father. Why did you?”

Kylo felt every joint in his body lock up, from his toes to his spine to his jaw. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit, you don’t know,” Lando was on his feet now, “give me a solid goddamn reason.”

Kylo stood as well, “you know that he and I never got along. That son of a bitch would have done the same to me.”

Leia shot up, “Ben!”

“No!” Shouted Kylo, “goddamnit, that’s why! No one respects me! I’m nearly thirty and I’m still treated like a child! He was annoying me and I gave him a shove and he fell and what, is the world really going to miss one more self-righteous prick in the grand scheme of things?” He could feel tears welling in his eyes. “I had a good thing! A good job! Steady income! Then this - this guy I barely know tells me to quit my job ‘cause what, he doesn’t like my boss? Tough fucking luck!”

“Ben Solo, do not talk about your father that way!”

“What father? When was he ever a fucking father to me? Goddamnit - Chewie is more of a father figure and I can’t speak Spanish so I can’t even communicate with him! In fact, I’d say my relationship with Han Solo has increased in quality since he’s been dead!” Kylo was hysterical. “I came here because Luke invited me - he thought it would be good to help me recover! Staring at me like I’m a savage that’s about to whip out a gun and shoot you - news flash - doesn’t help me recover!”

Leia was crying now. Rey darted from the room and Kylo heard the front door open - he ran after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh boizzzzzzz


	10. Ten

“Rey! Rey!” Kylo flung open the door, his hair a mess. “Rey!”

“What?” She spat, turning over her shoulder to shoot Kylo a glare. “In courting me, you left out the part where you murdered your father!”

“Why do you care?” He stumbled towards her.

Rey smacked his hand away, “I don’t even have a family! I don’t have one! Han Solo was my idol and it was tough enough when I thought he killed himself! Now that I know his son pushed him off a roof, I wish I had never come to San Amaro in the first place.”

Kylo recoiled, “your idol? Is that why you’re so buddy-buddy with Ahsoka?”

Rey snarled, “no! She’s my goddamn advisor! I’m a scholarship student, and she wrote my letter of recommendation when I applied for aid!”

Kylo let out a feral scream, “fuck! I can’t do anything right!”

Rey’s voice broke as Kylo fell to his knees. “What are you playing at? Trying to elicit sympathy? You’re giving me whiplash.”

Kylo was crying now, “all I ever wanted was to be free of living under my parent’s shadow.”

“Yeah, well, cry me a river. At least you had parents.”  
“Shut up,” shouted Kylo, “no parents would have been better than Han Solo as a father.”

Rey slapped him, “you disgust me!”

“No,” said Kylo, “I don’t. If I really did, you wouldn’t be here.”

Tears rolling down her face, Rey took a step back. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t fool yourself,” Kylo said, “you knew I would be here, and you got all dressed up. Just like how you convinced my goddamn classes to pester me. You’re incredibly smart, Rey, and you know how you affect me. Pretending like you don’t just prolongs the inevitable.”

Rey huffed, “I’m angry at you.”

“With me,” corrected Kylo. “You’re angry with me.”

“God,” Rey let out a strangled laugh. “What are we doing?”

Kylo shrugged, extending his hand. “I’m Kylo Ren, nice to meet you.”

Rey laughed, still crying (just as Kylo was). “For the record, I dressed up all nice to make a good impression on Ahsoka’s family, not for you. I’m Rey. It’s a pleasure.”

They shook hands, and Rey sat down across from Kylo. He began, “I’m a professor at San Amaro University. I teach American Literature. My parents are former Secretary of State Leia Organa and Han Solo. My dad died because I shoved him during a fight, he tripped, fell over and off the side of one of Columbia’s buildings, where I worked before the Incident. After my dad died, I moped around for a few months before Ahsoka got me the job at San Amaro. I have a temper, and I was friends with Poe when I was growing up.” He exhaled, “there. All my cards are on the table.”

“I’m a student at San Amaro University, and I’m an Engineering major.” Rey shrugged, “my grandfather was war hero Obi-Wan Kenobi, I’m an orphan, and I love building things. Thank you for being honest with me.”

\--

Poe called Kylo later, “I’m sorry.”

Kylo exhaled, a long drag of smoke swirling around him. “About what?”

“Rey,” said Poe, “she’s been depressed. I’m talking like moping, crying, being lethargic. At first I thought seeing you would make it worse, but she has SAD anyway, and this just amplified it, I’m just - sorry,” Poe breathed, “I fucked up.”

“I know,” said Kylo.

“God,” Poe rolled his eyes, “anyway, you need to apologise to your mom.”

“No,” he responded. “I stand by what I said. I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s true.”

“If you want to be treated like an adult, act like one.”

Kylo hung up. His phone buzzed with a text from Poe: _just be nice to her, please_


	11. Eleven

Leia Organa-Solo sat with her hands tightly wrung under the table and her face schooled into a mask of apathy. Being a politician was a career that required a tight leash on one’s emotions: if she was too kind she was called a ‘pansy pussy,’ and if she was too mean she was called a ‘stone cold bitch.’ Leia liked to walk the thin, thin line between the two. She had to be beautiful but not sexy, prim but not uptight. Despite her best efforts, Leia was constantly lessened to the men around her. Instead of being a fantastic politician, she was Anakin Skywalker’s daughter, adopted by once-President Organa. Instead of being a professor and accomplished scholar, she was Han Solo’s wife and Ben Solo’s mother.

Her tea was lukewarm before her. Ben - Kylo - was late.

He finally sauntered in (almost thirty minutes after when they had agreed to meet), his face gaunt and his eyes sunken in. He looked a mess, hair greasy and tangled, with pallor painting his skin. Leia stood, “Kylo.”

He gave a dull laugh. “Save it, mom.”

Leia Organa-Solo’s son sat across from her, his eyes glued to her tea.

“I’m sorry,” said Leia.

Ben - no, Kylo - looked at his mother. “What?”

She sighed, “we never stopped to think about how you were dealing with this. With all of this. Your father and I - we threw you out into an unforgiving world before you were ready, and you were preyed upon by an evil, evil man, and yet I blame you for what happened to your father. You were a volatile animal, and he poked at you. We are as much at fault for what happened as you are.”

“I pushed my dad to his death,” Kylo said, “someone, I don’t think you were at fault for that.”

“Well,” Leia considered, “indirectly, we all were. Your father and I didn’t raise you well, and we let Snoke come in and manipulate you.”

Kylo looked out the window. “Snoke was not a good man, but he was what I needed to hear. I mean - was raised under your shadows. Yours, Luke’s, Ahsoka’s, Han’s, hell, even Chewie’s.”

She laughed, “I know the feeling all too well.”

They spoke quietly for an hour before Leia excused herself.

Kylo sat, staring out the window. Midterms were upon him.

Rey stayed after class the next Monday, her lips glossy and her cheeks orange. “Professor,” she began, “I need some help on the midterm review.”

“No,” Kylo responded, “you really don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are easily one of the smartest students in this class. If anything, the other students should be asking you for help.” Kylo shrugged, grabbing his bag.

Rey sighed, walking beside him. She, as always, was a harsh contrast to his gloomy steps. Rey walked on sunshine, bouncing and twirling with every little grin. “I heard from Poe that you had coffee with your mother.”

Kylo glanced down at her, “and what if I did?”

Rey hummed, “I’d say that would be a very brave thing to do.”

“Brave?” He snorted.

“You confronted the person you have known since birth about a touchy subject full of guilt (to the both of you),” Rey said, “it’s pretty brave.”

Kylo exhaled, “see you on Wednesday, Rey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.patreon.com/blissey << i update frequently w/ progress and other things

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos if you enjoyed! Constructive comments are more than welcome. Title comes from Carla Morrison's Azúcar Morena.


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